“Agent Provocateur, I think.” She winked. “You said your mother-in-law wants to give you the honeymoon you didn’t have, right? Just what else are you going to wear under that gorgeous flapper dress, anyway? Might as well kill two birds with one stone and knock off your hubby’s socks—to say nothing of his other undergarments.”
I gulped. I could do with owning some pretty underthings. It had been a while since I’d thought outside the box of serviceable, long lasting and comfy cotton to catnap in while pulling all-nighters in the Den. But I wouldn’t be buying them for Lucas to see and appreciate.
My marriage was the long and dry sexual desert. Not by my choice. But I had to accept that Lucas had put his foot down and said no. And no meant no.
I bought the lingerie anyway. So what if only I knew these gorgeous things were under my lavish dress? They’d make me feel prettier, sexier, more confident. Thus, they had value to me even if no one else ever saw them.
My poor credit card had taken quite the beating today. But if it meant I’d have a taste of my own glamor and wouldn’t be an embarrassment to my secret European aristocrat hubby, then it was worth it.
As we walked out of that last store, April bit her lip, eyeing my shopping bags. “Ahhh it’s every bit as good as a fairytale. Almost brings a tear to my eye.”
Chapter 17
Lucas
The weekend after the pool party, Jordan texted me, asking to go on a run with him and I obliged. We met at his fashionable beach house in the Wedge area of Newport Beach. If it hadn’t been such a distance, I might have walked, since finding parking near his house was usually almost impossible.
It was a perfect warm beach day, and the surfers were out en masse, taking advantage. I half wondered why Jordan had opted for a run instead of surfing, his preferred method of exercise. That question answered itself once we started talking. I guess you couldn’t do much chatting while hitting the waves.
He pumped me thoroughly about my progress on the Great Project that would Wow the Board’s Socks Off ™. And then, satisfied with what he heard, as we stood on his porch after the run, he guzzled water and handed me a towel to wipe off my sweaty face.
“So I heard through the grapevine that you are royalty or something.”
I frowned, shaking my head, then tipped my water bottle to my mouth, gulping enthusiastically.
Jordan kept talking. “I knew your Dad was loaded but didn’t know he had a noble title.”
Just before I swallowed, I took a breath too soon and began sputtering and coughing, which spawned more gasping, which prompted Jordan to begin unhelpfully slapping me on the back.
“Stop it!” I finally rasped when I could catch my breath enough to talk.
I wiped the tears from the corners of my eyes brought on from the coughing fit as Jordan watched me carefully. “You have a drinking problem.”
I rolled my eyes. “Very funny. Who told you about my father’s title?”
Jordan tilted his head. “Bro, your wife spilled it to her girlfriends at the pool party last week. Women talk. Nothing you can do about it. They’ve all since told their significant others.”
My eyes narrowed. Damn it, Kat! “She told Mia?”
Jordan followed my train of thought. “Don’t sweat it, Lucas. I doubt Adam gives a shit about your aristocratic blood. The girls were duly impressed though, to hear April talk about it. You missed the boat on using that nice little factoid about yourself to get laid as much as you want.” He shrugged. “Ah, but your wife is hot, so I guess it wasn’t a total loss.”
I sighed. “Not everyone thinks like you do, Jordan.”
I mulled over this new bit of info as I drove home, annoyed with Kat for having spilled the beans—yet again. Though as I searched my memory, I really hadn’t explicitly told her not to tell anyone, either.
Kat made us dinner, and I decided not to bring it up then. What was the point? I’d let her know how I felt about it, eventually. But the pesto Alfredo and Caesar salad were beyond delicious so I’d let my irritation simmer down before I said anything. I truly hadn’t eaten as well in years as I had since Kat had come to stay. “Thanks for making dinner. I’ll get the